


I Don't Want to Go. So Don't.

by artandcrime



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Protective Jim Gordon, gobblepot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28973367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artandcrime/pseuds/artandcrime
Summary: A bounty is placed on Oswald and Jim takes him in to protect him. Mostly fluff.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Jim Gordon
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	I Don't Want to Go. So Don't.

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly mentions characters that don't exactly fit the Gotham timeline for the sake of the story, but it's easy to ignore.
> 
> I'm kind of out of practice but, hopefully you enjoy!

It was loud on the streets of Gotham city. Not just in the police sirens and distant gunshots, but also in the stark concrete buildings, and the rather _colorful_ citizens.  
Oswald was waddling down the sidewalk smothered in a ragged, oversized coat. He did his best to hide his identity, wrapping an old scarf around his neck so it went all the way to his nose. There were plenty of people who wanted the Penguin's head right now.  
Where he was going, he hadn't the slightest idea; he only knew he was to avoid the back of a police car or a cold, lonely cell.  
"Oswald.” There was only one person who called him by that name. Before turning around, he quickly grabbed an empty beer bottle and slammed it against the side of a building, breaking it in half to wield it as a weapon.  
"What do you want, Jim?" He slowly turned around to see the detective in his usual attire, this time with a familiar face behind him.  
"Drop the bottle, Penguin,” Harvey yelled with a gun pointed at Oswald's head. Gordon put his hand up to Harvey, signaling him to ease up. Oswald noticed how Jim's body language always seemed to _defend_ him. Jim was a complicated man, which Oswald was allured to; he was even more confusing when it came to how he treated him.  
"Oswald, you need to come with us,” Jim said, holding up a comforting hand. Penguin rolled his eyes, annoyed.  
"Oh come on, Jim, you _must_ know me better than that,” Oswald scoffed, waving his precious bottle to emphasize each word. Harvey firmed up his grip on the gun at this.  
Oswald turned his attention to Jim’s partner, "And you know what? _You_ can shoot me! I've been shot before, so this time could you kindly aim for the head?" Jim's face softened with _sadness?_ Oswald couldn't believe that.  
"Nobody's getting shot, Os. There's a rather expensive bounty on your head and as of right now we don't know who from, so _please,”_ Jim motioned for Oswald to come.  
He knew people wanted him dead, who _didn't_ want the Penguin killed? Against his usual judgement, he was tempted to obey.  
The sun was setting and this was Oswald's only option besides a night sleeping in a cardboard box with the fear of being murdered while unconcious. Besides, the open hand of Jim Gordon was rather inviting.  
"No handcuffs?" Oswald asked suspiciously. Jim shook his head with a pleading expression. He signed and mumbled out a ‘goddamnit’ before dropping the bottle to shatter on the ground and walking towards Harvey's car.  
Jim looked relieved and Harvey looked annoyed as the detective opened the door to the backseat.  
_‘Didn’t expect to actually end up in a cop car tonight’_ Os thought. He decided to maintain the attitude of a petulant child; his arms were crossed and he had a slight pout.  
"Where are you taking me?” the criminal asked rudely.  
"We've saving your life here, you'd better-"  
"Harvey, play nice," Jim interrupted, “There’s a safehouse nearby. We’ll be there until we figure out who ordered that hit on you.”  
_We’ll?_ The thought of being with Jim for a while was so appealing to Oswald it almost sickened him; he was supposed to hate this man, he was supposed to be _the_ Penguin, the crazy, murderous, _terrifying_ criminal. He was growing soft.  
"Here," Harvey said. They arrived at a dingy apartment building adorned with said colorful people of Gotham along with a few decorative bullet holes in some of the windows.  
"This is the best you two could come up with," Oswald scoffed.  
"Just get out of my damn car, Penguin,” Harvey spat as him and Jim opened the doors, “You’re lucky Jim asked me to do this, I would prefer to let you go and see what happens." Jim became visibly embarrassed as though he didn't want it revealed that he, for whatever reason, valued the criminal's life.

“I'll be back tonight with dinner," Harvey said, standing in the door frame, "Penguin, I better come back to Jim in one piece." Oswald held his hands up defensively. With that, Harvey was closing the door behind him and Jim and Oswald were together...alone. It was a peculiar situation the small bird-like man found himself in, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it.  
Since the two opposites crossed paths all those years ago, Oswald had been playing a love-hate, back and forth game in his head about his feelings for the man.  
Os sat down on the couch, dust flying upwards as he sank into it. He closed his eyes to block out the looming sunset. He felt Gordon's gaze on him. _Probably to ensure I don't pull a gun on him,_ he thought as he slipped his hands into his coat pockets.  
Jim's hair was messy from a day of police work, but he looked so effortlessly handsome. His blonde hair and blue irises were so attractive to Oswald and since the day he laid eyes on the man he was always trying to admire these features as much as he could.  
“You want water? Or..." he opened the cupboard and found a bottle of liquor, "vodka?" Oswald perked up at the offer of booze. He walked over to Jim and poured two glasses of alcohol.  
"Oh, I can't," Jim said, presumably because he was technically still on the job. Oswald raised a convincing eyebrow, wiggling the glass in front of him.  
Jim laughed a bit and accepted. Os couldn't help but notice his finger grazing Jim's. These little things were all Oswald had to hold on to, as he knew he'd never get anything more from the detective.  
Jim noticed Os practically chugging his drink, “Long day, huh?"  
Oswald was about to respond when a loud banging sound emerged from the kitchen's window. Jim immediately lept into action, placing a firm, protecting hand on Oswald's chest with the other gripping his gun.  
His hand slowly slid off the Penguin's chest as he crept towards the window, and Oswald found himself missing his touch.  
"Just a cat," Jim announced, peering through the glass.  
Oswald knew Jim was only protecting him because he was easily manipulated to give information to the detective, though the second his wistful thinking kicked in he felt it was due to something _more._  
Os gave Jim an amused look as he poured himself another glass.  
"What?" Jim asked, and the Penguin was caught.  
"Nothing, just-" he smiled, "Why not let me die out there? Surely that would lift a weight off your shoulders.” Again, at Oswald mentioning him not valuing his own life, Jim produced a frown. Cops were supposed to want criminals dead, and the way Jim wanted to keep the man safe was baffling, to say the least.  
"I don't want you dead, Oswald.”  
"Because I know things. Things that help you," he smirked.  
Jim stepped ever so slightly closer, _”Because,_ you're kinda...my friend. _And,_ I suppose you're helpful.”  
Oswald didn't have to see his own face to know there was blush creeping across his cheeks and shock in his eyes.  
" _Friend,”_ Oswald mulled over the word audibly, "Never did I think a member of the GCPD would be my friend. I'm not mad at that though."  
The corner of Jim's mouth almost revealed a smile; it melted the small man's heart. The conversation quickly changed to a business-like tone.  
"Do you have any idea who placed the bounty? Normally I would ask someone in this situation if they had any enemies but-“  
"But who doesn't want the Penguin dead?" Os interrupted, "Could be anybody. Nygma?"  
"That's what I was thinking, but nobody knows where he is. I guess we'll see," he moved to sit on the couch.

When Harvey returned, the pair were drinking and laughing.  
“Sorry to interrupt your date but food's here," he said, setting a couple bags down on the dining table. Jim mouthed 'shut up’ at his partner.  
When they began eating, Harvey said through a mouthful of food, "So because we don't have the rest of the department on our side, I had to call in some favors...” Harvey kept talking, but all Oswald could think of was why this operation was kept secret. He flashed questioning eyes at Jim.  
Once Harvey was finished, Jim responded, "The GCPD doesn't exactly agree with what we're doing here. So it's up to us two and whoever Harvey's recruited."  
Once again, to no surprise really, Jim was stirring the pot and breaking rules, but this time it was to protect the criminal.  
Harvey eventually left, leaving the two alone again. Jim passed out from exhaustion, gun in hand, sitting on the hardwood floor near the front door. Oswald was still awake, taking these precious moments to admire his features. His mouth was parted slightly, his eyebrows were drawn together; even in his slumber he was ready for battle. This saddened the Penguin, as he wished he could give Jim an ounce of peace; something he likely never got.  
Os grabbed a nearly blanket to drape over the detective, but he couldn't get close before he woke up and instinctively raised his gun.  
"Just me, James," Oswald said, just above a whisper. Jim sleepily rubbed at his face, lowering his gun and slumping further into the wall. Os got closer to sit beside him on the floor.  
"You know you don't have to sleep here. It'll be fine. I'll be fine," they were close and Oswald wanted so badly to lean into him. He glanced at his tired ocean-like eyes. Jim met his gaze with a look that said _‘You will?’_  
Despite this, the two fell asleep, on the ground against an uncomfortable wall.

Jim was woken up by the door being opened by Harvey. He had relaxed into a compromising position while sleeping; his head was propped up on Oswald's shoulder.  
Harvey nodded to follow him into the other room. Jim stood up, careful not to wake the Penguin.  
_"Jim,”_ Harvey's face and tone were very telling, mimicking a conversation Jim knew all too well.  
Still, he played dumb, “What?”  
"I told you, you're getting too close to him.”  
"No, Harvey, I-“ Jim started.  
“He’s a criminal. It's us against him. I know that you have this weird urge to protect him, but if it were up to me, we'd toss him out of here and let the vultures have him,” Harvey sounded concerned.  
"You've made that clear from the start, Harv,” Jim lowered his voice, “He helps us, if he dies we've lost our connection.” Jim felt sick, de-valuing Oswald's life to simply being their snitch.  
Oswald awoke mid-conversation, without the detective's knowledge. The words he heard felt like a punch to the gut and all previous, tiny shreds of hope for something more with Jim were utterly destroyed. Idiocy creeped in, and he labeled himself a fool for ever thinking he was anything other than Jim’s informant. _That "friend" conversation was excellent manipulation on James’ part._  
"Look, I'll just hide him in my apartment; no sneaking around the GCPD, _and_ we keep our informant. Deal?" Jim shoved his hands in his pant pockets nervously. Harvey huffed out, 'fine,’ quickly cut off from any more complaints by loud voices by the entrance. Oswald's eyes widened and before he could react, the pair of detectives were on either side of the door with guns ready.  
Jim moved his head to gesture Oswald to hide behind the kitchen counter. Once the Penguin was shielded, the door burst open, three burley, big men entering with various weapons.  
Feeling useless, Oswald reached for a nearby knife. One of the intruders was shot, the other two on each detective. Jim was having trouble pinning the man down; he was strong, but couldn't compete with someone twice his size.  
Os snuck behind the man who was occupied keeping Jim down with a hand on each of his arms.  
"Get off him," Oswald ordered, holding the knife to his neck. He feigned obedience, but turned around to attack. Being in this same situation more times than he could count, Oswald was quick to stab him in the stomach. Two more jabs and he was down, and Oswald's hands were covered in blood.  
He wiped it on his coat, unfazed. Harvey had the one man left alive in handcuffs.  
"Thanks, Osw-“ Jim started to get up but was stopped when Oswald pointed the knife at him.  
_”You,”_ the Penguin sounded betrayed, “Calling me your friend? Do I look stupid to you? I'm not your puppet, Jim!"  
"Drop it, Penguin," he turned to Harvey's gun in his face.  
Os threw the knife to the ground and let out an angry screech, walking out of the building.  
"Oswald, wait!" Jim got up and started after him. He _had_ to fix this.  
"Jim," Harvey stopped him with a strong hand on his shoulder, “Let him go, he's not worth all this." Jim simply gave him a mad look and continued.  
“Os, please," the bird-man stopped and dropped his head with a sigh, “I didn't mean what I said earlier. Please, just come with me. It's not safe out here."  
Oswald was completely exasperated with the day and exhausted beyond belief. However, he had nothing to lose, so he did as Jim said, following him to his car.  
"I'll take it from here, Harvey, just get back to the GCPD,” Harvey nodded, “And thank you." Harvey placed a hand on his partner's shoulder and got into a waiting patrol vehicle. He looked concerned, and rightfully so; the policeman and the criminal were now alone together, and with the feelings he knew Jim had for the Penguin made that combination all the more explosive.

Oswald‘s knees were facing the passenger door as he solemnly stared at the passing grey streets of Gotham. He could almost feel himself blending back into its darkness; with his false connection to Jim exposed, he no longer had any reason to not let the city engulf him again.  
Jim glanced at him every so often and Oswald refused to give in and meet his eyes. He was mourning his hope and deep in heartbreak. _I'm the fucking Penguin, people fear me, I shouldn't be so naive._  
"Oswald,” he didn't dare look, “You _are_ my friend and I _do_ care about you. Maybe I shouldn't, Harvey seems to think so, but I can't help it, I just do.“  
That damn flutter in Os’ chest returned and he cursed himself for letting Gordon do this to him. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him and he didn't care if the car crashed because of it, as long as he died with his mouth on Jim's. He settled on a glance.  
Blue eyes met brown and for a fleeting moment all was right in the world.  
"I care for you too, Jim. Sometimes I wish I didn't; it would make my life a hell of a lot easier," Oswald feared he revealed too much or somehow insulted him, but was relieved when Jim smiled; a genuine smile that Oswald couldn’t help but want more of. Of course, his criminal mind started coming up with a list of people he would murder simply to see it more often; it was endless.  
“So, I'm finally going to see Jim Gordon's apartment. I feel honored," Os teased.  
'It's really nothing special."

It was more than a little drab, looking more like a hotel room than somebody's home. This would make sense, as he was always working with barely any time for a personal life. Oswald felt saddened when he realized that Jim was technically working now.  
The Penguin wandered the house curiously, examining everything with wonder; he wanted to know everything about Jim, from the way he leaves out clothes, to his never used stove. He was a fascinating man, and Oswald was in awe.  
Jim watched the small man as he walked around the room, letting his fingers brush the wall as he moved. Jim liked the way Oswald decorated the room with his presence; it made the place feel more comfortable and homey. He secretly hoped the stars would align so that somehow Oswald would come here again.  
Once he finished inspecting Oswald said, "I like it."  
"Yeah?" Jim walked towards him.  
"Yeah,” Oswald smiled, “It’s very… _you.”_ They were a step apart now. Os looked up at him with big eyes, and Jim couldn't help but stare back.  
When Jim's gaze fell to the criminal's lips he knew he had to divert his attention, “So, uh... Harvey and a couple of officer’s are working on your case. It shouldn't take too long, but they do have a big list of suspects.” Oswald nodded, not letting Jim escape the bubble of tension they were in.  
"I don't believe I've thanked you yet. For everything,” he stepped forward and let his hand touch the detective’s suited elbow, “Thank you."  
Jim was a passionate man; he was passionate about his job, which everyone knew, but he was also a rather passionate lover, something hardly anyone knew. Every partner Jim had, he went for. But this was different, this was somewhat forbidden. He couldn't imagine what would happen if somebody found out the cop was in love with the criminal mastermind. And the criminal mastermind knew he would easily be killed for being involved with the cop.  
_However…_  
Mimicking Oswald's touch, Jim placed his hand on his upper arm. Jim was growing bolder by the second, fueled by the gleam in Oswald’s eyes. They were utterly intoxicated with one another and the air in the room reflected that.  
And then, it was finally happening. Jim raised his hand to cup Oswald's cheek. He ran his thumb over his undereye lovingly. He felt the weight of Oswald leaning into him; his face was just perfect for Jim's palm.  
"You look tired,” Jim said, tilting his head with a concerned frown. Oswald shrugged and, to the surprise of Jim, moved to rest his head on the detective's chest. He wrapped his arms around his waist and brought him into a hug. Jim's arms hovered for a moment, and once the initial shock was over, he slung them around the shorter man's shoulders, savoring their closeness as he was unsure he would ever get this chance again.  
Oswald tightened his hands in the fabric of Jim's suit jacket, which made the sore detective wince.  
To Jim's dismay, Oswald separated from him, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"  
"No, I think I bruised my shoulder earlier,” he absentmindedly rubbed it, missing Oswald's touch.  
Os reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a tiny bottle of liquid.  
"Take your shirt off," he demanded. Jim hesitated, confused. Oswald gave him a look that said, _Well, what are you waiting for?_  
He was easily persuaded by the beautiful pale, raven-haired man, keeping eye contact with him while unbuttoning his shirt.  
"What is that?' Jim asked as Oswald put the liquid on his back.  
"Chamomile. I keep it with me for my leg.” Jim couldn't help but notice the way his fingers lingered as he applied it.  
_God, what am I doing?_ Jim couldn't help but think. His better judgement quickly disintegrated at the shiver he got from the criminal's touch.  
When he finished, Oswald walked back to face Jim, letting his fingers graze his skin as he went.  
Their peaceful bubble was interrupted by yet another sound from outside.  
“Oh for God’s sake,” Oswald grabbed Jim’s gun from his belt. Jim was surprised at himself for letting him, but he trusted Oswald not to hurt him.  
Os flung open the door pointing the gun directly at the intruders head, “Who sent you?”  
The man had a gun as well, but Oswald was quick to get the upper hand, as always. He looked to a shirtless Jim for help, assuming the do-good cop would stop Oswald from shooting him. Jim simply crossed his arms and watched as Oswald pressed the man for answers.  
“Maronie, but please don-” he was interrupted with a bullet to the brain.  
Jim cringed at the blood adorning his front door.  
“Well,” Oswald smiled and held up his arms to rejoice, “We got our answer.”  
“But you didn’t have to kill the guy,” Jim tilted his head and frowned at the dead body. The truth was he could care less this man died, he was hired to kill Oswald and Jim would’ve killed him himself had he got the chance. He had to at least _try_ to maintain his good cop attitude when it came to the Penguin.  
“No unnecessary murder, at least not when I can see it,” Oswald nodded and Jim continued, “I’ll call someone to clean this up.”

"Thank you, old friend. I guess I'll be going now," Os’ goodbye smile was exhausted and lonely. He didn't want to leave, that was clear, and Jim didn't want him too either. He was scared for Oswald's life; one of the many downsides of caring for a criminal who half of Gotham would love to see dead. Jim never knew if it would be the last time he saw his Penguin, which is why he went to him so often for information which, most of the time, wasn't needed.  
Jim grabbed the end of Oswald's sleeve, tugging him to his chest. The relief Oswald felt as Jim's hands cradled his head was similar to his first breath of air after his life was saved by him on the pier so many years ago.  
"I don't want to go. I feel safe here. With you," Oswald said into his shirt.  
"So don't," Jim’s grip remained soft in his hair as he planted a kiss atop his head.  
Jim tilted Oswald’s face with two fingers under his chin. This earned a hum of satisfaction from the Penguin, and he let his eyes fall shut.  
Jim leaned in close, hovering lips over lips and breathing each other’s air. Oswald smiled with eyes still closed, and that was Jim’s green light. His lips were soft and warm against Jim’s; a distinct opposite to his Penguin persona.  
Oswald wrapped his arms around the detective’s neck, clinging to him to stand with heels off the ground.  
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Jim breathed into Oswald’s neck. At this, Os tightened his arms around him, trying to get impossibly closer. He often wished to dissolve into him, to become one so as to never be a part from him. Finally, he understood why helpless civilians clung to Jim for safety from criminals such as himself; he felt like one of them now.  
Oswald left a trail of hot kisses up and down Jim's neck, and that's when he knew he would be craving those lips until the day he died.

That night, they lay in bed, arms intertwined with arms and legs intertwined with legs. Oswald stayed awake, watching the sleeping man beside him. His face was the most relaxed Oswald had ever seen him, however, there was a crease between his eyebrows that refused to disappear. He hoped that there would be many other nights such as this one, and eventually Jim's concerned look would melt away with Oswald's protective hug.

Leave it to the cop to make the criminal abandon his gritty, murderous exterior.  
And in turn, leave it to the criminal to make the cop desert his once rock-hard morals.


End file.
